Fixing What's Broken
by livingforthememory
Summary: Tensions between Alfred and Arthur had been building, and after the dam breaks, Alfred can't handle the flood. But will he be able to fix what he's broken? All he wants is his brother back.


_**What have I done this time?**_

I thought I was dealing with it, but I wasn't, not really. It wasn't until I decided to clean out my attic that everything came back. The castles in the sand, the Styrofoam swordfights in the park, the mock sea battles conducted at a lunch table… I was forced to face it all, good and bad.  
>Running my hands over the rough boxes of our long-forgotten memories, I tried to remember, but I also tried to forget. Suppressing and uncovering, all at once. Especially the last few months. Those… those I wanted to forget.<br>I still don't know how this happened. Everything was going great…  
>But that's not true, is it? I know how it happened. It happened because I let it.<br>I was so focused on being the hero that I walked away from my best friend.  
>And every day, I wish I could take it back.<p>

The tension began about a year ago.  
>Iggy had been smothering me for a while, but I didn't think anything of it. It was how things had always been: Arthur leading, Alfred following. Sure, I had always wanted to be the hero, but Iggy was older, smarter, <em>better.<em> It just made sense.  
>Everything was how it should be, until it wasn't.<br>I guess it really started that last summer. I was making new friends, branching out, living. Iggy wasn't. He didn't hang out with anyone but me, and when we were together, all he wanted to do was relive the past. I could feel us drifting apart, Iggy standing on the shore and me being pulled out to sea with the current.  
>But Igg, he couldn't let go, couldn't face the tide. He started to drag me in tighter, closer, insisting on running my life. He couldn't understand that it was <em>my<em> turn to lead, _my_ turn to be the hero. It was my story, you know? I just wanted to write it myself, that's all. But Iggy, he didn't want to let me.

I guess it wasn't all his fault. We needed each other, I get that. He gave me stability, but it was time for me to make my own mistakes, to fall out of the nest and take flight. I still could have stopped it, though. Just because it was time to spread out didn't mean I needed to push him away completely. Who else would be there if I crashed and burned? Who else would have always taken me back no matter what? I doubt he would take me back now. I was a shit friend. I left the only person that really cared what happened to me, and it kills me every freaking day.

I stopped when I got to the last box, the box I swore I'd never open again. I guess, like all childish promises, that oath was destined to fall apart. I sliced the tape down the center, separating the flaps and stirring up months of dust and emotions. Only one thing slept in that box, waiting to be woken up.  
>How can a cracked boat sail the seas? It would only sink, collecting on the ocean floor with millennia of broken things and dashed hopes. I guess souls and boats and hearts have a lot in common.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Iggy, please, just this once. I can handle it, I promise." I knew I was being a whiney brat, but I didn't care. He never let me do anything on my own!<em>

"_Alf, you're not ready. I have more experience; it's better if I take this one."_

"_I'll never have experience if you never let me sail the damn thing," I muttered._

_Iggy threw our packs onto the sailboat and unloaded the cooler. He paused._

"_Did you grab the life vests?" he asked, looking at me skeptically._

"_Why the hell don't you trust me?" I retorted, turning abruptly to run back to the shed. So I forgot, big deal. He didn't have to be an ass about it._

"_Don't forget the life preserver!" he shouted after me. "Or the good luck charm!"_

_I turned around just long enough to flip him the bird. Sailing wasn't any fun anymore, especially when Igg didn't let me do anything. I clumsily unlocked the boat shed, threw the vests over my shoulder, and swung the life preserver onto my arm. Then I made my way to the back wall, where our good luck charm sat on its wooden pedestal: a perfect model boat, an exact replica of our _Independence. _Iggy and I had made it together, our first summer at the seaside. We never sailed without it._

_I ran back to the dock just as Iggy was untying the boat. "Leaving without me?" I snarled. He just couldn't wait to get rid of me._

"_Nope," he replied patiently, "you got here just in time. Hop on." He held out his hand to help me onto the stern, but I tossed the vests and the float at his feet and jumped on without touching him, carefully holding the small boat to my chest._

"_Let's just get on the water," I mumbled, already losing all excitement for this voyage. Iggy wordlessly moved to the helm, steering the _Independence_ out of port. I set the miniature on its usual crate, cushioning it with towels. Then I plopped down onto the deck and rummaged in the cooler for a sandwich._

"_Do you ever stop eating?" Iggy laughed, glancing over from his post._

"_I ha uhn unyoojoouhwee lawj ahpitight." I swallowed down the rest of my turkey club and glared at him. "Are you ever gonna let me have a turn?"_

"_Alfie, I don't want you getting hurt. You don't have enough practice."_

"_That's because you never let me practice!" I shouted, fuming. Iggy looked hurt, like I'd just kicked a kitten. He was always acting so innocent, it made me sick._

"_Alfred, you know I-"_

"_Don't you dare call me Alfred," I growled, standing up to face him. "And stop. Treating me. Like. A. Child!"_

"_You'll always be my little brother, Alfie," he whispered._

"_Maybe that's the problem!" I screamed. "You need to let me go, Arthur! _We're not brothers!"

_Iggy was staring at the ground near my feet, an expression of shear agony on his face. I was shaking, the rage slowly draining out of me. What the hell was he look-_

_There, next to my foot, was the _Independence,_ split down the middle, pieces of plastic in shards on the floor. I hadn't even realized I had been stomping my foot… The boat must have rocked…_

_I sank to the ground, pulling my legs toward me with my head in my hands._

"_Iggy, I'm sorry…" But when I looked at his face, I knew sorry wouldn't cut it. The _Independence_ wasn't the only thing that was broken that day. Now I really was sick. "Just take me home. Please…"_

_We didn't speak for the rest of ride home, and the next day, Iggy was gone, any trace of him evacuated from the beach house like a hurricane zone._

* * *

><p>I held the two pieces of the tiny ship in my hands for ages, just staring at them, remembering everything. All these months, I had let myself believe that it was Iggy's fault, that he was the one who, while keeping me close, had pushed me away. But it was me. It was me, me, me, the whole time. I hadn't even tried to understand. I just kept drifting, slowly getting lost at sea. What had I done?<br>I had to make it right. For my childhood, for the memories, I had to make it right. I hurried out to the shed, sat down at my work desk, and got out the Super Glue.

I had to do it. I cradled the phone in my left hand, and the mended remains of our _Independence _in my right. I ran my fingers over the sloppily filled crack thousands of times, like the ocean beating against a stone. Maybe I thought if I wore it away enough, the past year would wear away too, until it hardly existed at all.  
>It was time to fix what I had done, to Super Glue everything back together. The crack might still be there, but hopefully, mercifully, we would be stronger because if it.<br>I dialed carefully, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable.

_Ring, ring, ring._

"Hello?"

* * *

><p><strong>Extended Ending.<strong>

The wind whipped in my face, slapping me repeatedly, reminding me where I was, who I was with. I never thought I'd see him again, not like this. He was back, Iggy, my best friend, my brother. We were back. The _Independence _skimmed the waters of the Atlantic with ease, under my command.  
>"You've been practicing." Iggy grinned, the uncomfortable look he'd been wearing since we left port finally melting off his face.<br>"See? I told you I could do it!"  
>Igg laughed, looking down at the boat in his hands. He traced the thick line of glue, and I knew what he was thinking. What we both were thinking.<p>

_This boat will never break again._


End file.
